


(Don't) Rock the Boat

by wedelia



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 10:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedelia/pseuds/wedelia
Summary: As she notices her feelings, Erin is horrified. Because it’sJames.Michelle’s cousin James. English James. Awkward, exasperating, goofy, once-pissed-in-a-wastebasket James.Somehow she likes him anyway.Or, the one where Erin and James dance at prom before they get Carried.





	(Don't) Rock the Boat

When Erin had imagined going to a dance with a boy, she hadn't pictured it like this: not knowing what to do with her hands but keeping one of them in his, the feeling of it warm and soft and catching her off guard in the way that missing a step on the stairs does, and her other hand on his shoulder while his is at her waist; being led through an awkward sway as they’re jostled on all sides by a clumsy crowd of just-as-inexperienced dancers; laughing over the sound of the slow music and looking up at his face which somehow looks different—more romantic—and _why is she letting herself think of this as romantic_ —in the dim lighting; and noticing with bewilderment the stutter of her heartbeat as he twirls her around on an impulse.

_What the fuck, Erin,_ she thinks, _get yourself together. You're mad. This is_ James.

Because—to share another detail her imagination had failed to predict—she’s dancing not with John Paul, the biggest ride in Derry, but James. James with his dorky Dr. Who scarf and impossibly kind eyes and that stupid English accent that Erin’s reluctant to confess is growing on her. Like a fungus.

Maybe it’s—what had he said that one time? Stockholm Syndrome? However they're not in Sweden but Derry, and though she'd like to blame her weird rising nervousness on a medical condition, she knows the actual diagnosis is even more dire.

Erin likes him. Like-likes him. Wants to touch his soft-looking curls and wear his denim jackets and hold hands walking home from school sort of like they're holding hands now. But better.

She thinks that being friends with him should have been a kind of vaccine against this. She should have built up enough healthy awareness of the weak points of him to keep her from coming down with a lovesickness—or like-sickness—or whatever the unwelcome thing that she has now is. But clearly that didn't work.

As she notices her feelings, Erin is horrified. Because, again, it’s _James_. Michelle’s cousin James. English James. Awkward, exasperating, goofy, once-pissed-in-a-wastebasket James.

Somehow she likes him anyway.

“Thank you,” she says, realizing she's been stuck in her thoughts for a long moment. “For coming to get me.”

James smiles at her. “Of course I did. It’s not like I could’ve just left you at home after your mum rang me.” He leans in a bit and admits, “Also, I’m not going to lie, Mrs. Quinn scares me a little. If I hadn't shown up, she'd probably put a hex on me or something.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “That was a misunderstanding.”

There's a shift in the music. James spins her around. Her Easter dress flares out around her legs and settles back down when she's facing him again. She says, slightly out of breath, “Really, though, it was good of you. Sacrificing your creep convention for little ol’ me.”

“For the last time, it’s _not_ a creep convention—”

“Yeah, alright, James—”

“Have you ever even seen Dr. Who?”

“The most English show in the history of television? No, I can't say that I have.”

Now they’re getting back to familiar territory. Erin can handle this.


End file.
